


a serious business

by zimtlein



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack, Gen, implied romantic feelings, mentions of guns, one (1) swear word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimtlein/pseuds/zimtlein
Summary: No one ever said naming villains would be easy. Nathalie discovers just as much, too.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	a serious business

Nathalie knows it’s best not to get too nervous. Even though it’s late, and even though the whole mansion is drenched in silence, there’s nothing to be nervous about. She takes a deep breath as she always does. Her hand is shaking just the slightest bit as she opens the door to her boss’s bedroom.

She anticipated as much when she got his message – Gabriel isn’t resting. Instead, he is pacing up and down with hectic steps, his tablet in his hands. His brows are furrowed, his eyes carrying an icy shimmer. On instinct, Nathalie pauses in the doorframe, clutching her own tablet against her chest. Her heart is beating. Like it always is in his proximity. Swallowing down any tiny spark of emotion, she keeps looking at him.

“Sir. You called for me.”

“Nathalie. Yes.” He keeps pacing. Piercing eyes capture hers. Lines of worry stretch over his forehead. Concern collects in her chest, but before she can verbalize as much, he goes on. “I need your advice.”

It has to be something serious, then. Hesitantly, she steps into the room, closing the door behind her. Being with him in the same room, all on their own – it shouldn’t make her heart flutter like it does.

“I’d love to assist you.”

She hopes he didn’t detect she trembling undertone in her voice.

But he clearly didn’t as he focuses on his tablet once more, his pacing continuing. She follows his movements, counting the steps. Five. Six. Five again.

“If, hypothetically, you were to be professional ice skater being faced with the shutdown of your ice rink, which power would you like to be granted by an akuma, and most importantly, based on this, which name would you like to be given?”

Nathalie stares. Thinks. Stares again. “Hypothetically.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I might say something ice-themed.”

Gabriel gives a deep sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment. She feels herself tense up at his disappointment. “Yes, Nathalie, that much is clear. I’ve been thinking about this for the past four hours and forty-seven minutes, but everything I thought of was too cliché to be worthy of my genius.”

“Well,” she tries again. “I’m sorry, sir. Maybe you could have this hypothetical person skate on air?”

“The Airer,” Gabriel mumbles. “It’s weak. Uninspired.”

“An ice skater needs ice to skate on, though.”

“The Icer.”

“Depends on the kind of abilities you would like to grant him.”

“The Skater? No, that would make him sound like a sixteen-year-old punk. We’ve already had enough of those in the past.”

“The Freezer?”

“Nathalie. This, on the other hand, would make him sound like kitchen equipment.”

Oh. Right. She keeps her face carefully blank. “The Frozen.”

“No, no, no,” he keeps mumbling. “We’re not advertising a children’s movie. No matter how well made it was, and no matter how much I adored Elsa, and no matter how deeply complex the reasons for her misconducts were, and no matter how much she would understand me if she was a real human being. No use in imagining fictional coffee parties with her either, you see.”

“Absolutely,” Nathalie replies, doing her hardest not to stare at the glaring Frozen poster hanging above his bed.

“So, our hypothetical person. He shouldn’t be the one being frozen. It would make him look weak. A being of ice? Easily defeated. Not coming across as a supervillain, but as something you would put into your fridge and forget about after some hours, discovering it months afterwards at the far back and consequently getting rid of it.”

“Right, then. The Fro… -zer.” Nathalie feels ridiculous, abusing grammar like this, but Gabriel’s sudden halt makes her reconsider.

“The Frozer,” he repeats. “The Frozer.” He nods, pulls the pen from its holder, starts scribbling something on his tablet. “The Frozer! Freezing anything in his path.”

“So he can skate anywhere?”

“Of course! Brilliant. Worthy of a true designer.” He keeps nodding. “Now, someone who would like to erase memories. Quick, Nathalie, your first thought.”

She is starting to sweat. “The Forgetter.”

“No, no, it’s not them who forgets. It’s others. The Memorizer.”

“Sir. This would imply the akumatized person is memorizing something. The Forgotten?”

“They aren’t forgotten, they are making someone forget.”

“Amnesia?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “Cliché. The fashion world would blank out your name forever if you ever dared go that low, Nathalie.”

“Sir, I’d like to kindly remind you that Mr. Ramier is known as Mr. Pigeon.”

“That is different.”

She raises an eyebrow. “How so?”

He keeps quiet. Longer, longer, until he huffs and brings his tablet closer to his face. “Those were my early days. One faux pas is excusable.”

His words are sharp, and Nathalie feels a tinge of regret form in her chest. “I apologize, sir. Despite this, you truly surpassed yourself with Guitar Villain, if I’m allowed to say so, delicately playing on the existence of a video game you witnessed your son playing just a few days prior.”

At that, Gabriel nods as grimly as ever. “One of my finest moments. Inspiration truly hit me.” He sighs at his tablet. “The most impressive ideas come naturally, Nathalie. This is what a true designer should learn. Trust your instincts. Yet, there were times even I, as accomplished as I am, struggled.”

Nathalie nods too. “Dark Cupid.”

A second of silence until Gabriel looks at her. “One of my greatest creations.”

“Oh – yes. Yes. Very original, sir. Very, yes, very creative.”

She keeps her face blank again, suppressing a relieved sigh when he averts his gaze after endless torturous seconds.

“The Obliviator.”

“With all due respect, sir, that sounds a bit overkill,” Nathalie says. “The Obliviouser?”

“No, no, it doesn’t have the aesthetic.”

“Which aesthetic?”

“ _The_ aesthetic.” He smacks his fist against his open palm. “Oblivio. There. Slides from the tongue easily and conveys everything I want to convey.”

Nathalie doesn’t even ask anymore as she listens to his evil cackling. For a very short moment, she feels the urge to turn away, leave this mansion, and do something worthwhile with her life.

But because her character motivation forbids her from doing so, she watches on, nodding like the good assistant that she just is.

“I am just waiting for the moment I can not only steal those two fools’ Miraculouses, but akumatize them too. Nathalie, just imagine.” His eyes are glowing as he sends her an ominous smile. “Bad Chat.”

She tries not to make a face. “Bad Chat?”

“Yes! Granting him the power of endless annoyance! He will tip over anything in his way, and nothing will stop him!” He laughs menacingly. “You see why? Because, cat?”

“I think I get it.”

“Bad Chat and Ladybaby.”

“Lady- …?”

“Or Ladyloser.”

“Sir –”

“Ladybugger? No, that goes too far. Vulgarity hardly makes for slightly humorous puns.”

“I wouldn’t –”

“I can feel it. The perfect name is just about to present itself before me. It will be glorious!”

“Sir, don’t you think there is much more you could do with Chat Noir’s initial powers?”

At that, he looks at her again, dark amusement melting from his face. “Do you not think my idea makes for the perfectly balanced piece of art? How else would you turn his powers into a slightly amusing, yet entirely evil and villainous ability?”

Nathalie keeps a straight face. “You amplify his powers of destruction. Not only for glasses he can push over, sir. The power to destruct a whole city, if not the whole planet.”

“An interesting, yet flawed idea. What would happen if we were part of this destruction, Nathalie?”

“We would be dead.”

“Thank you for answering my rhetorical question.”

For a while, they both become silent. Nathalie is just about to excuse herself when he speaks up again, though.

“Say, Nathalie. If we were dealing with a father who wouldn’t want his daughter to date anyone, which theme would you go with?”

She thinks. Looks at her own tablet. Thinks again. “The overprotective military father theme seems a bit, well, too hefty.”

“Right. Hawk Moth might be a villain, but no supporter of too much violence. No guns for my akumas if I can help it.”

“Even though not even Ladybug and Chat Noir’s suits would save them from a fatal bullet wound, I would estimate.”

Gabriel draws his brows together. “They are my greatest enemies. Yet they are only kids.”

That’s true. And kind of sad.

“I cannot shoot kids, Nathalie.”

“Not even with magical bullets?”

“God, no.”

That pitiful truth needs seconds to sink in. That’s just it, the magical power of being kids. Good for them, good for them. Eventually, Nathalie sighs.

“I would go with the fairy tale theme, then. It’s romantic, dreamy, and just a bit humorous without seeming over the top.”

Gabriel’s darkened expression clears up in a matter of seconds. “Yes! Yes. And the akumatized father could become the king, protecting his princess.”

“A king doesn’t personally protect a princess.”

“Her personal knight?”

“Doesn’t make much sense in this context, sir.”

“Damn it,” he curses under his breath. “This is exactly why I started to plan in advance. A dwarf, as in _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_?”

“This … would make the villain seem a bit ridiculous, and not very menacing at all.”

“Right. A werebeast, as in _The Beauty and the Beast_?”

“Your knowledge of fairy tales is impressive, sir, but the beast in this one was the princess’s lover, not her father.”

“Details, details!” Gabriel waves her off. “Only handmade pieces carry errors, Nathalie! It’s what makes original pieces original.”

“So, you are making the father a werebeast?”

“I am making him a – listen – a weredad!”

He cackles. She clears her throat.

“Thank you, Nathalie,” he eventually dismisses her. “I shall keep working. This is something delicate, and I need to treat it with utmost care.”

“Your naming villains?”

“Exactly. Just imagine one of them wouldn’t be absolutely stunned by my incredible ability to pun in a villainous manner. I cannot have them reject those witty masterpieces, witnesses of my true genius. It would end in disaster.”

“Yes. I understand.” She doesn’t understand one bit.

When she leaves his room, Nathalie keeps standing in the hallway for some long minutes, thanking the stars and the heavens her alter ego already came with a name attached. She doesn’t know how she would have lived with being called Dark Bird. Or Madame Pea. Or Shadow Wing Woman. Or Feather Sidekick. Or Sentimonster Creator Machine.

She shudders.


End file.
